Operation: Titan
by finicky
Summary: AU. Mikasa, determined and vengeful, teams up with Corporal Rivaille, the Legion's greatest asset, in order to defeat the Titans, the terrorist organization responsible for both the Fall of Wall Maria and Eren's death. MikasaxRivaille, MikasaxEren
1. Prologue

**Operation Titan**

**Summary:** Mikasa, bent on avenging Eren's death, teams up with Rivaille, The Legion's greatest asset, to defeat the Titans, a terrorist organization bent on overthrowing the King.  
**Pairing(s):** MikasaxEren, MikasaxRivaille  
**Setting:** Alternate Universe  
**Warning: **As already suggested in the summary, there will be **character death**. Also, Rated T for language and themes.

_I am on the roll! Welcome to my second SnK fanfic! I got this idea way back, but never got around to write it down. The setting is a modernized SnK universe: an advanced kingdom divided by three walls, only without the actual Titans. So our protagonists will only deal with normal people without titan-shifting abilities. More AN's at the end of the chapter!_

* * *

**PROLOGUE**

* * *

There was a knock on the door.

"Mikasa, are you up?"

Mikasa Ackerman exhaled loudly as she made one final push off the floor and went up on her knees, having just finished her morning pushups. Wiping sweat off her forehead with the white towel hanging around her neck, she quickly stood and turned towards the direction of the muffled female voice.

"Yes."

"May I come in?"

She threw the towel on her bed and walked towards her small closet for a fresh set of clothes. "Yes."

She heard the door swing open as she was grabbing a plain white shirt and faded jean pants. When she turned, she saw a tall woman in glasses and a white coat standing in the doorway, her lips stretched in a wide smile.

"It's a lovely morning, isn't it?" the woman said cheerfully, her bright eyes boring on Mikasa. "Did you have a good night's sleep?"

Mikasa quietly nodded.

"Well that's lovely, dear. Go dress up, have some breakfast and meet me in my office after, okay? There's something I want to talk to you about."

"Yes, Doctor," the black-haired young woman said in a flat, mechanical voice.

That seemed to satisfy the older woman somewhat. "Alright. See you later, then!"

_What did I do now? _Mikasa thought darkly as she watched the doctor turn on her heel and leave, the door closing behind her. Dr. Hanji Zoe was generally an energetic, motherly kind of woman, but the way her perceptive eyes seemed to see right through a person's mind had always made Mikasa uncomfortable in her presence. Nevertheless, next to Armin, the woman was her most frequent visitor, and that ought to count as something, right?

After taking a shower, Mikasa slipped into her shirt and jeans and went over to her mini-dresser to fix her still-damp hair. She looked at the built-in mirror and saw a young woman of twenty, her pale skin underlining the dark bags under her blue eyes. Her pink, chapped lips were set in a firm, straight line, and the blank expression on her face gave nothing of the turmoil going on within her.

Slowly, she began combing her hair with her fingers, then noticed that it now reached past her shoulders. Almost instantly, a male voice rang in her mind, making her pause mid-action and hitch her breath.

"_Your hair's too long."_

Mikasa's chest suddenly hurt, and for a moment, she just stood there, staring blankly at her reflection, feeling as if time had stopped and she was stuck in a loop, Eren Jaeger's voice reverberating off the pristine, cream walls of her bedroom.

"_Are you alright, Mikasa?"_

"_If you don't fight, you'll lose. And you must win, Mikasa!"_

"_Mikasa."_

"_Mikasa, get out of here!"_

"Snap out of it!" she said out loud, and that seemed to break the trance she'd found herself in. Blood came rushing in her ears and she blinked several times, realizing that she had gripped the edge of the dresser so tightly that her knuckles had gone white. Straightening back up, she took a deep breath and closed her eyes, trying to regain her composure.

"_You must win, Mikasa."_

She opened her eyes again and gave a small, sad smile at her reflection in the mirror.

_I will, Eren. Things just got a bit harder now that you're not around anymore._

* * *

Rivaille sat alone in a lone park bench, his dark hair and black overcoat billowing in the strong breeze that swept by. He kept both of his hands in the pockets of his coat, while his eyes surveyed the clear, forget-me-not blue sky overhead. From around him, the sounds of lively chatter and children's laughter filled the air, and the sensation felt foreign to him—as if they were from a whole other world.

How could these people walk on the same earth as him and seem so fucking happy? Were they living in a different dimension? Or, perhaps, were they on some strong drug that made them fucking immune to negative feelings? Looking back on his life, Rivaille couldn't pinpoint a time when he had laughed as loudly and freely as these people. Whichever direction he looked, there was only one landscape: a bleak, gray wasteland, filled with wild animals out to prey on each other. Anything aside from that was either a farce or a façade, treacherous and fleeting and phony.

Or maybe, he thought, a wry smile marring his face, he was just born extremely unlucky, damned to thrive in a special place in Hell. Well then, if that were case, then he might as well turn into the biggest, baddest monster that would rule the whole goddamned land. Maybe from there, he'd have a chance to reach the heavens above, where the rest of the world lived in their blissfully ignorant bubble of so-called happiness.

"Terrific," he mumbled to himself, resisting the urge to laugh at his own morbid thoughts.

"What's terrific?" a male voice said nearby, and Rivaille looked away from the sky and turned his head to its source, which was revealed to be a blonde-haired man in a green coat, walking towards him.

"Irvin," the dark-haired man said, watching as the new arrival took the empty seat beside him. "Don't you know what _on leave _means? Or are you here to take away my vacation?"

"Neither," Irvin Smith said. "I came here as a friend, not as your commanding officer."

"Cut the bullshit," Rivaille said with a frown. "So we happen to be taking a stroll on the same park on the same day? We are anything but a coincidence, Irvin."

Irvin's blue eyes bore on his dark ones. "Alright, you got me," he said, before he turned to observe the scenery around them. "I knew you would be here."

"There, that's a better answer," Rivaille said. He pulled out a hand from his pocket and revealed a half-empty pack of cigarettes. He shook it lightly and brought it close to his face, using his mouth to pull out a single stick.

Irvin was watching his actions from the corner of his eye. "I thought you quit," he said blandly.

"Ah shit," Rivaille said, ignoring him. "I forgot my lighter."

Wordlessly, Irvin reached for his coat pocket, produced a lighter and tossed it lightly at his direction.

Rivaille stared at the older man as he deftly caught the lighter with his free hand. "Would you like one?" he asked, before he lit his stick, took a drag and exhaled the smoke through his nose.

Irvin shook his head. "I'll pass."

Rivaille threw the lighter back at him. "So what brings you here in my little secret spot?" he asked conversationally, removing the stick from his mouth and flicking it to remove the ash from the tip. "Wanna spend some quality timewith me?"

"How are you, Rivaille?" the blonde man asked, his face a perfect clean slate. "I mean it," he added, as Rivaille made to open his mouth for another one of his sarcastic remarks.

"Humor me a little, will you?" The younger man took another drag from his cigarette. "As you can see, I'm very well into the road of self-destruction. Or, at least, according to that weirdo Hanji."

"You've met her?"

"She came crashing into my apartment the other week," Rivaille said, as if the memory pained him. "Been blabbering about getting me a date, or something."

"Well, are you going out with somebody?"

The ghost of a smile was evident on Rivaille's face. "Never dreamt of the day you'd ask me about my love life, Commander," he said with a straight face, and a small smile crept up on Irvin's face in response. "Though since you're very curious, I'll tell you that no, I haven't."

"You haven't," Irvin repeated. "That's a curious way to word it."

The statement made Rivaille pause, and in the silence that followed, the two men sat looking at different directions, their stiff shoulders indicating that the conversation had made a rather unexpected, awkward turning point. Rivaille exhaled a puff of smoke and watched it dissipate in mid-air, his eyes suddenly faraway.

Irvin was the one to speak first.

"Did you and Petra go out?"

Rivaille took his time taking another drag before he faced his commander once again. "No," he said simply, then he averted his gaze to a group of children passing by. "We didn't."

"I heard from Hanji that the girl had taken quite a liking to you," Irvin explained, his tone uncharacteristically careful. "I figured maybe she did something about it, since you'd worked closely together for years."

"Well that doesn't matter now, does it?" Rivaille spat, his voice eerily flat. "She's dead."

Irvin's hands curled into fists on his lap. "Indeed," he said quietly.

Another moment of silence passed.

"So what can't wait that made you haul your all-important ass all the way from HQ and trail me here?" Rivaille finally asked, shifting the topic. "Wait, don't answer that yet," he hastily added, before getting on his feet and going to the nearest trash bin, where he put out and threw away his cigarette butt.

"The latest intel just came in," Irvin said straightforwardly the moment Rivaille came and sat back. "I'm afraid you'll have to go back to work one day earlier. We're badly short in manpower, as you already know, and a matter of this urgency and importance can only be handled by the Special Ops."

"And that Special Ops Squad is made up of, surprise, just me," Rivaille said in an undertone.

"Not anymore," Irvin said, earning a curious glance from his subordinate. He inserted a hand in the inside pocket of his coat and produced a folder. "I have here the character profile of your partner for this mission."

Rivaille's eyes betrayed his surprise. "Partner?" he echoed disbelievingly. "You know I don't work that way, Irvin," he went on, his voice strained. "I need a squad, not a _partner._" He spat the last word as if it was a filthy, despicable thing.

"We both know that getting more than three people into this operation was a big mistake, Rivaille. Look at what happened to your squad," Irvin said firmly, and that seemed to immediately sober Rivaille up. "She is currently under Hanji's care, so you can find her in _that_ place. I want to meet the both of you tomorrow night. Don't go to the office-I'll send you the time and place."

Rivaille didn't have time to react as Irvin shoved the folder in his hands and unceremoniously got on his feet.

"I know losing your squad is difficult," the commander said, his blue eyes gazing down on Rivaille's still seated form. "But unfortunately, you don't have the time to mourn for them properly. We have to move on and make sure that their deaths will not be in vain."

Rivaille avoided Irvin's eyes by looking pointedly down on the ground. "I know," he said.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Corporal."

Rivaille waited for the sound of the Commander's footsteps to fade into the distance before he finally looked up and examined the folder in his hands. Knowing Irvin, the mission would most likely be a covert one, kept even from the other high-ranking officers of the Legion, which was why he did not risk staging their meeting in the headquarters or his office. It was obvious that in light of the recent incident, the Commander could not afford to trust most of his members anymore, be it junior or senior.

So who's this unfortunate bastard that Irvin had chosen to work with him? _It's a she_, he reminded himself, recalling the way Irvin had described his new partner. If so, then she must have been exceptional, for the Commander himself handpicked her to team up with _him, _Rivaille, the Legion's greatest asset. _But under Hanji's care?_ That part made him frown heavily. _Is she handicapped or something?_

Without further ado, he flipped the folder open, and the photo of a pale, young woman with chin-length black hair stared back at him with dark, baleful eyes.

_Mikasa Ackerman_, the profile said her name was.

* * *

_So there it is, the prologue! Please, please let me know what you think of the story so far by leaving a review. __Thank you for reading! :)_


	2. Partners

Thank you so much for reading and reviewing **Operation: Titan**! :) Though let me just take a moment to say that **SnK Episode 21 was too. freaking. awesomesauce.** Reading the manga beforehand would never prepare me for all the feels and adrenaline-pumped action that episode had in store. And Kami-sama, the wonderful animation and OST still gives me goosebumps until now. I still can't get over it, huhu! Anyway, enough of this! More of my A/N's at the bottom of the chapter. :D

I hope you enjoy. :)

* * *

**Chapter 1: Partners**

* * *

"Oh Mikasa! Come in, come in!" Hanji said gleefully from her position behind her office desk as Mikasa stepped inside and closed the door behind her. "Have a seat!"

Mikasa was about to take another step when she noticed another presence in the office, standing quietly by the wall to her left. She stopped in her tracks and openly observed the unfamiliar person, who, in return, merely looked back at her with a devil-may-care expression on his face.

He was young-looking at first glance, although his facial features gave away that he must be at least in his late twenties. He stood shorter than Dr. Hanji, but his stance was authoritative, which gave Mikasa the impression that he was someone of importance, like a mid- to high-ranked military officer. His black hair fell like a curtain just past his ears, and his equally dark eyes bore on her unblinkingly. With his arms crossed over his chest, he appeared uninterested—even bored—as Mikasa finally resumed walking and sat on one of the chairs situated before Hanji's desk.

"That man over there," Hanji started, nodding towards the mysterious third person in the room, "is Corporal Rivaille. He's also from the Legion, but I don't believe you've met before, am I right?"

"A Corporal?" Mikasa said curiously, glancing back at Rivaille.

"Ah," Hanji said, laughing a little. "It's just a nickname, because he used to be in the army. You see, we—the Commander, Rivaille and I, that is—go a long way back so the name just kind of stuck. My bad! Just call him Rivaille."

She nodded at Rivaille in acknowledgement, which he did not return. _Arrogant, aren't we? _Her lips slightly curled in dismay, but she respectfully held back her tongue.

"So Mikasa," Hanji said, opening a drawer in her desk and procuring a sheaf of papers. "How can you describe your stay here in the rehabilitation center so far?"

"It has been productive, ma'am. It's been very helpful for me," Mikasa replied promptly.

"And how exactly has it been helpful for you?" Rivaille suddenly piped up from behind her. "From what I can see, all your limbs seem pretty intact. No visible wounds or deformity. Your physical exam results say you are in perfect shape. Why the hell are you here in the first place, soldier? Is this your idea of a joke?"

"Now, now, Rivaille," Hanji interjected gently. "I believe Irvin has given you Mikasa's records. You should have an idea or two about her background—"

"I want to hear it directly from her pretty little mouth," Rivaille said coolly.

On her seat, Mikasa didn't move an inch, staring straight ahead of her with her hands sitting on her lap. If she had something in mind, she didn't voice it out.

Her silence seemed to provoke something out of the man, as suddenly, he walked forward and placed a strong hand on her shoulder, forcing her to look up and turn around to face him.

"I'm talking to you, Ackerman," Rivaille said in a voice barely above a whisper, his face a mere five inches away from hers. "What makes you think you're so special? How can you have it worse than anyone of us, hmmm? You think a little emotional trauma is a good excuse to run away from your duty and hide here, where your ass is tucked in a soft bed every night, while the rest of us _live _the nightmare out there?"

"Rivaille!" Hanji pushed herself off her swivel chair and leaned across the desk to grip Rivaille's outstretched arm. "That's enough."

"What I don't understand," Rivaille breathed out, finally distancing his face from Mikasa, although his hand still held her shoulder in a vice-like grip, "is _why _this little girl is still here. I don't want sissies in my organization, Hanji."

"I assure you that she's not a liability, Rivaille. In fact, she's—"

"_Let go of me,_" Mikasa suddenly said.

Both Rivaille and Hanji paused as the young woman finally looked up and met Rivaille's condescending glare with blue eyes filled with so much hatred and violence that Hanji felt her heart literally skip a beat.

Rivaille, however, appeared not intimidated at all. "Oh, so she speaks," he said casually, his lips curling into a smirk. He still did not let go of her, however.

"I said, let go of me," Mikasa repeated in a dangerously low voice, and when the other still didn't heed her, she forcefully shrugged his hand away and got onto her feet so fast that Rivaille barely had any time to react before she pulled the front of his shirt and, with surprising strength, slammed him against the nearest wall, knocking a hanging picture frame in the process.

From the background, Hanji ran both her hands in her messy hair exasperatedly. "Not in my office!" she wailed.

Mikasa drew her face so close to Rivaille's that their foreheads actually touched. "With all due respect, _sir_," she spat venomously, "you have no idea who I am and what I've been through. I don't take shit from anybody, especially from little men who obviously had forgotten to bring their manners with them when they left home this morning. If you so much as lay another finger on me, _I will kill you."_

Rivaille took one moment staring at her before his shoulders began shaking uncontrollably.

Hanji blinked in alarm. "Rivaille…?"

That was when the corporal broke into bouts of laughter, so loud that even Mikasa was taken aback for a moment. He then raised his hands and held Mikasa's wrists.

"If you ruin my shirt," he said slowly, deliberately tightening his grip on her, "you'll spend the rest of your life missing both of your hands."

Mikasa was unfazed. "Why don't you try?"

"Did I hear that right?" Rivaille said, laughter still evident in his voice, and she finally let go of his shirt and took one precautionary step away from him, half-expecting a fistfight to ensue. "Are you _challenging _me?"

"Jeez, why can't you just go along?" Hanji groaned, closing her eyes and massaging her forehead tiredly. "Not five minutes has passed since you met and you're already down on each other's throats."

"Now I know why Irvin picked this girl," Rivaille said, straightening the wrinkled fabric of his shirt before unceremoniously plopping down on one of the chairs before Hanji's desk and crossing his legs leisurely. "She clearly wants to die an early death."

"Mikasa," Hanji said, sinking back on her swivel chair. "Please sit down and let our mouths do the talking."

Mikasa took another moment glaring at the corporal before she begrudgingly sat across from him.

"Now," Hanji said, reverting back to her usual chirpy self. "I'm happy to say that the Commander has approved of your early dismissal from this facility, Mikasa. You are expected to report for duty today."

"That doesn't explain why _he's _here, Doctor," Mikasa said in a steely voice, making it a point not to make eye contact with Rivaille.

"The other news is also a good one," the doctor continued, her glasses glinting under the light that came in from the window behind her. "You have also been promoted to join the Special Operations Squad this year. Congratulations!"

Mikasa momentarily forgot her bad mood and blinked in confusion. "What?"

Hanji smiled at her widely. "Consider it an honor. It's not everyday someone as young as yourself can be qualified to join this elite team. Well, Rivaille here holds the record for being the youngest member to be admitted to Special Ops—he was seventeen that time, I think—but yours is no easy feat at all, dear. You should give yourself a pat on the back."

_Him, a member of the Special Ops Squad? _Mikasa threw a skeptical glance at the man lounging across from her. _What a waste._ Then the implication of that statement suddenly hit her.

"Doctor," she said hesitantly. "Does this mean…" She looked back at Rivaille, dread beginning to fill her gut. "This man is…?"

"Yep!" Hanji said excitedly, as if she didn't know any better. "Rivaille here is your new partner!"

Rivaille caught the young woman's disbelieving gaze and smirked. "Still planning to kill me, rookie?" he taunted.

_You must fight, Mikasa! _Eren would have said if he was still there, and that was what had prevented Mikasa from completely losing it right then and there.

"But, Doctor…" she said, in an almost pleading tone. "I can't work with him. You've seen how incompatible we are."

"I'm sorry, Mikasa, but orders are orders, and we should all follow them." Hanji stuck her tongue out and winked at the younger girl. "I guess you should now get packing. Rivaille has come to pick you up and bring you to the Special Ops base."

* * *

Mikasa gave her four-walled bedroom one sweeping look, wondering how she managed to stay in such a cramped space for so long. More importantly, it made her wonder if she was ready to leave at all and go back to her previous life in The Legion. Truth to be told, she didn't really understand why she was suddenly put in the Special Ops. She could think of some names that could have been more qualified to be in her position: Reiner Braun, for instance, or his partner Bertholdt Fubar, both of whom consistently came in the top five during performance rankings back in their training days. While it was true that Mikasa had always been the popular choice when it came to new Special Ops recruits (at least as far as the 104th Training Squad was concerned), any of it could hardly matter now. It would've been a big deal five years ago, sure, but since the recent turn of events…

As much as Mikasa already hated him, the short man called Rivaille did have a valid point. She had once failed the organization, so what made them so sure that she couldn't do it again? What drove them to put their faith in her once more, and place her in the elite Special Operations Squad, no less? She couldn't help but think that there was a catch somewhere: after all, Commander Irvin Smith was not exactly recognized for his compassion and kindness. Mikasa knew that retribution to her previous crimes was in order.

But as soldiers of The Legion, they were trained to trust their leaders and not to question orders—even if they were told to die. This had been the strength of The Legion since its existence in ancient times, and what had made it the powerful, independent, self-governing militia that it was now. That meant that despite being largely backed up by the King, they were above the influence of The Garrison and even the Military Police. In the past, this had been a cause of power struggle between the Imperial Government and The Legion, until finally, ten decades ago, in order to prevent a civil war from arising, the Tenth Commander rewrote the organization's Constitution and limited the scope of The Legion's activities to external intelligence, concentrating their power on outside-the-walls expeditions and leaving the internal and public affairs to the hands of The Garrison and Military Police.

For several years, this system had retained peace and order throughout the Walled Kingdom. That was until ten years ago, Wall Maria—the kingdom's outermost wall—was destroyed by an unknown outside force, bringing death, havoc and despair along with it.

It turned out that the Fall of Wall Maria was orchestrated by mysterious terrorists from a land outside the Walls. Since the origin and objectives of the attackers were still unknown back then, The Legion referred to them under the codename "Titan." The Titans were believed to come from a nation across the sea, and their apparent goal was to overthrow the King and conquer the lands within the three Walls. Other than that, little information about them had been disclosed to the public, as the Martial Law implemented by the Imperial Government had forbidden even the mention of their names.

It was during the Titans' first attack that Mikasa Ackerman's life had changed forever. Mikasa, by then a ten-year-old orphan living under the care of a medical doctor named Grisha Jaeger and his wife, Carla, had witnessed the destruction of Wall Maria first hand. Their lovely home in Shiganshina District was crushed by boulder-like debris that fell from the destroyed fifty-meter wall, killing Carla Jaeger on the spot. With Dr. Jaeger away on a medical mission at that time, Mikasa was left alone together with the couple's only child, Eren, who was roughly around the same age as her. Eren had been too devastated by the death of his mother, and had no one but Mikasa and their childhood best friend, Armin Arlert, to spend lonely nights with in the bomb shelter waiting for his father's return.

However, since that fateful day ten years ago, Dr. Grisha Jaeger had never returned for Eren. He was later on declared dead by The Garrison, leaving his son, like Mikasa, an orphaned ten-year-old, lost and filled with nothing but the unquenchable desire to avenge his parents' deaths.

From that day on, when Eren had made it his sole life's purpose to kill the Titans, Mikasa also swore in the name of all gods that she would protect Eren—her only remaining family—with her own life.

_And now, ten years later, he's dead._

Snapping out of her reverie, the black-haired girl towed her luggage (which consisted of a large rucksack and a medium-sized suitcase), then made her way to the coat rack by the bedroom door. There, she unhooked and shrugged on her cream-colored overcoat—the only one she had since she was fifteen years old—then pulled out a red, mildly tattered scarf and wrapped it gently around her neck. That red scarf had been Eren's, given to her on the night they first met eleven years ago…

…which was also the night when Mikasa's real parents had been killed.

_With all of them gone, what else is there for me to lose?_

Mentally shaking her head to rid herself of depressing thoughts, Mikasa took one last glance at her bare bedroom and left, not looking back ever again.

_Nothing._

* * *

When Hanji came through the glass front doors of the building, she spotted Rivaille standing in the driveway, smoking a cigarette by his car. Smiling to herself a little, she went to stand by his side, taking out her own cigarette and lighting it. Her glasses become opaque as they reflected the bright blue sky overhead.

"Mikasa should be ready in a while," she started as she exhaled a puff of smoke. "I'm surprised you came here to pick her up yourself."

"Irvin's orders," Rivaille said simply, leaning back and resting an elbow on the hood of his black sedan. "I'm supposed to play babysitter until he briefs us tomorrow night."

"You're surprisingly harsh towards her," Hanji commented lightly, a characteristic lazy smile on her face. "I haven't seen you do that old ritual since you recruited Auruo. She must be special, eh?"

Rivaille didn't reply immediately as he took a drag from his cigarette. "She's different," he finally said.

"What makes you think so?"

At this, the dark-haired man turned his head to look at the doctor straight in the eye. "She knew Eren Jaeger."

The smile on Hanji's face was slowly replaced with a small frown. "…I understand," she conceded. "That's what I don't get about this whole situation, either. What was Irvin thinking?"

_Yeah, what was he thinking? _Rivaille thought. "There must be some motive behind this," he said casually. "Which I am not interested to know, as of now."

"You really do trust Irvin that much, don't you?" Hanji said laughingly. "Who would think that a person like you can be so loyal to his master?"

"I'm not a fucking dog."

"But seriously." Hanji cast him a sideway glance, her tone suddenly humorless. "We all make choices, Rivaille. And it's okay not to be right all the time," she said cryptically.

Said man merely responded with a wry smile. "I doubt Ackerman would think the same way."

"Mikasa is a strong, level-headed girl," the brown-haired woman said. "And you're pretty tough too, shorty, so I guess you can handle her, at the very least. Stay away when she's on her period, though."

Rivaille looked positively disgusted. "How the hell should I know—"

"Oh look, there she is!"

True enough, Mikasa's tall, slender figure had appeared by the building entrance, her luggage in tow. She approached them as Hanji waved her over, her eyes narrowing when they rested on Rivaille, who, as usual, ignored her silent challenge.

"Wow, are you sure all your stuff are in there?" the doctor said, noticing Mikasa's things. "You must be the only woman I know who can put all her worldly possessions in just two bags."

"I don't own much, Doctor."

"Then all the better." Hanji took a step forward and rested both of her hands on Mikasa's shoulders. "You take care of yourself out there, okay?" she said, her eyes suddenly becoming watery behind her glasses.

Mikasa's poker face seemed to soften a little at the sight of the teary-eyed older woman. "I will," she said, and Rivaille thought he saw her lips quirk upward in a small, sincere smile. "Take care too, Dr. Hanji."

"Awwwwwww!" Hanji suddenly squealed, pulling a surprised Mikasa in a bone-crushing hug. "You're like the daughter I'll never have! Come back in one piece, okay? That's not even a pun!"

"Yes, Doctor."

"Women and their drama," Rivaille said in an undertone, before straightening up and walking up to the other two. Wordlessly, and with his half-burnt cigarette still in-between his lips, he bent down and effortlessly picked up both of Mikasa's rucksack and suitcase in one hand, while his other free hand reached out to open the rear car door.

"Say your farewells, ladies, we're running on a tight schedule," he called out in a bored voice as he gently put the luggage in the backseat and slammed the door shut. He then went to a trash bin conveniently placed near the building entrance to put out his cigarette.

Hanji finally let go of Mikasa and patted her on the head. "Off you go. Rivaille may be a jerk most of the time, but he has his good side, too!"

"I seriously doubt that, Doctor."

Rivaille went straight back to the driver's seat and started the car's engine, inwardly rolling his eyes as he heard Mikasa's faint reply . "Hurry up, Ackerman!" he snapped authoritatively. "I don't have all day."

He closed his door as Mikasa finally climbed on the passenger's seat, and was mildly distracted when he heard a rapping noise on his window. He turned and saw Hanji leaning in.

"Remember, her period!" she mouthed through the glass, grinning as Rivaille furrowed his eyebrows irritably. "Bye!"

"Fucking weirdo," the corporal muttered under his breath, before he turned around to check up on his companion. "Put your seatbelt on, Ackerman."

Mikasa did as what she was told and stared straight ahead, apparently determined not to say a word to him for the rest of the ride.

_Suits me just fine, _he thought dryly as he lowered the handbrake. "I guess being your senior, I must say some inspiring bullshit before anything else," he said, focusing his attention on the road ahead. "I only have one advice for you, _partner_: just look after your own ass, and you'll be fine."

He caught Mikasa throwing him a surreptitious glance as he switched to drive and stepped on gas. The car had already left the driveway and was cruising along the main road when she finally spoke up.

"Just don't let me catch _you_ looking at _my _ass_, _partner, and you'll be fine," she said calmly.

That made the dark-haired man smirk in amusement.

_This is gonna be a long ride_.

* * *

Thank you for reaching this part! I hope that this chapter had pretty much established the setting of this story, as well as Mikasa and Rivaille's hate-hate relationship. Ha ha!

Love it? Hate it? **Please let me know what you think by leaving a review**. Your readership inspires me to write more. :) See you next update (which is, hopefully, soon)!


	3. Justice

Hi everyone! Once again, thank you for reading _Operation: Titan! _It makes me really sad that the first season of the anime is already over, which was probably what inspired me to finally get my lazy ass to finish this chapter! Special mention to **DigiPal**, who just happened to finish reading the previous chapter on the same day I was uploading this one. Ha ha, you're in luck, pal, you won't have to wait much longer for an update!**  
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More A/N's at the bottom of the chapter. I hope you like this one!

* * *

**Chapter 2: Justice**

* * *

"This is where you'll live."

Mikasa looked up at the modest ten-story apartment complex through the car window with a grim look on her face. Her new home was located along a busy street right in the heart of Trost District, south of Wall Rose—one of the less likely places to find a member of The Legion's most elite squad, that much she could say. Having come from Shiganshina, a small, laid-back district in the outskirts of Wall Maria, she had never been used to the chaos of urban life, and this new place of hers seemed to be an embodiment of just that.

"Can't I go back to my old apartment?" she said, turning to face Rivaille. Since their graduation from training school, she and Eren had stayed in a nice flat in the Karanese District, which was a more secluded area compared to Trost or any of the other towns within Wall Rose.

Rivaille kept his gaze ahead of him as he drove the car into the basement parking lot. "You can, if not for the fact that you've been gone for the past year and failed to pay the mortgage. It was auctioned off last month."

_There goes our home. _"Can I at least have a say in this?" she insisted. As much as possible, she wanted her life to return the way it was a year ago, no matter how hardly likely that could be considering what had happened since then. Besides, back in their old place, they were neighbors with Armin Arlert and Jean Kirschtein, two of the very few people she considered as real friends. Mikasa was never a social person to begin with, and with her one-year isolation from society, she knew she had only gotten worse as far as her people skills were concerned. The fact that she had almost gotten into a fight with the first person she had to interact with outside Dr. Zoe's facility was not helpful, either.

"No," Rivaille said simply in response. "Considering you're here and not rotting yourself away behind bars in some high-security prison, I'm surprised you can even _complain_ about this." He smoothly parked the car in an empty slot and pulled the brakes.

The look on Mikasa's face promised painful death as the dark-haired man turned off the engine, opened his door and stepped out of the car. Oh, she'd have her chance to put the man in his rightful place alright. He wouldn't know what's coming.

Her unit was located on the seventh floor, labeled with the brass numbers '705.' Rivaille produced a keycard from his pants pocket and inserted it in the slot under the doorknob. There was a faint clicking sound, before he opened the door and stepped inside, bringing along her luggage with him.

After a moment of hesitation, Mikasa followed suit and took in her surroundings. It was a one-bedroom unit with apple green walls and white floor tiles, and from its condition she easily could tell that the place was only recently vacated. It lacked the distinct smell of being abandoned over a considerable amount of time, and the huge boxes that occupied one corner were an indication that its previous tenant had still not completely moved out. On the other side of the room, right across the front door, was a glass door that led to a small balcony. The kitchenette, equipped with a built-in mini-fridge and electric stove, was located at her immediate right.

"Someone will come over to collect the boxes," Rivaille said, dumping Mikasa's things in the center of the room and moving about with so much ease and certainty that it gave the impression that he was very familiar with the place. "That door to your left leads to the bathroom, and this one—" He pointed at the door that was located adjacent to the glass door. "—is the bedroom. There's a bed, mattress and sheets in there, also a closet and a study desk. "

"Can I afford this place?" was Mikasa's first question. It was undeniably one of those upscale apartments, given its wide area and convenient location. Being unemployed for one year did have its major drawbacks, after all. She wouldn't mind if she settled in a bed space if needed to.

"The Special Ops Squad is considered elite for a lot of reasons," Rivaille said wryly. "In my opinion, paying rent should be the least of your worries."

Mikasa resisted the urge to roll her eyes.

"I want you to be ready by 10AM tomorrow," he went on. "I'll come to pick you up. We're going to the Special Ops base, then we'll meet the Commander by the evening. If you have any questions, it's best to save them until the meeting." He then went back to where Mikasa was standing and handed her the keycard.

For a moment, they just stood there, looking at each other. Mikasa's mind reeled with questions, but she chose not to voice them out, as what he had suggested. Rivaille seemed to contemplate about something, before he finally said, "I'll see you tomorrow, then."

Mikasa didn't respond, but he didn't seem to be expecting one anyway. He sidestepped her and left without another word, leaving the door open behind him and the young woman looking after his retreating back.

* * *

Eren Jaeger stood before her, his green eyes shining bright against the darkness.

A small smile graced Mikasa's usually expressionless face. "Eren," she said.

"Stay there," Eren said when she tried to take one step closer to him. "You can't come with me, Mikasa."

"Why not?" Mikasa asked indignantly. "I told you I'll never leave your side. I promised your mother."

"You don't have to do that anymore."

"But I want to!" Mikasa wanted to stomp her foot like a petulant five-year-old. "Why are you so stubborn, Eren?"

"I have to go on without you," Eren said simply. "You have to find your own way too."

"Your way is my way."

"No."

"I'm coming with you, whether you like it or not!"

"I'm sorry, Mikasa."

Much to her horror, Eren turned his back to her and began to walk away. "Eren!" she shouted, willing her feet to move. Her legs suddenly felt like they were made of lead. "EREN!"

But Eren only walked further, without so much as a second glance. Mikasa couldn't breathe. She helplessly reached out a hand towards him.

"_Don't leave me…_"

When she opened her eyes, Mikasa found herself lying in bed, her right hand reaching out towards the dark, empty space above her. _Another dream, _she thought bitterly, letting her outstretched arm fall limply back on her side. _Why now, of all times?_

With great effort, she sat up and rubbed her eyes, realizing that she had been crying in her sleep. Again. "I should stop doing this," she said dimly, suddenly feeling like a wimp. In most cases, "wimp" would be the last thing anyone would ever describe Mikasa. Even as a child, she was someone that even bullies would never dare cross (much to the advantage of Eren, who often got into fights because of his loud mouth).

However, that definitely didn't mean that Mikasa never cried nor got scared. In fact, she had cried out of fear far too many times that she had long lost count—it was just that no one had ever been there to witness her at it.

This was because whenever she cried, she mostly did it before or in her sleep.

Her worst fears were her own nightmares.

For a while, Mikasa just sat there, blankly drinking in the darkness around her. She had been so used to her old room back at the correctional facility that she felt mildly lost in the wider space that now lay before her. Also, she realized she was very thirsty.

She had to force herself to get out of bed, reflexively hugging herself as the chilly air made the tiny hairs on her arms stand on end. Very quietly, as if she was scared to disrupt the heavy silence, she opened the bedroom door and headed for the kitchen, where she opened the fridge and took out a cold bottle of water she bought earlier at the convenience store across the street. As she hungrily drank from the plastic container, she recalled her dream, the images etched vividly in her mind's eye.

_Oh Eren, can I really do this?_

She didn't have another blink of sleep after that.

* * *

The longer Mikasa stayed in the Special Ops base, the more she suspected that the coldness she was feeling was not because of a defunct heating system, but because of the general atmosphere in the whole place.

From the outside, the Special Ops base was an imposing, Gothic-inspired building with conical spires and water spouts in the shape of gargoyles. On the inside, it was an immaculate place, with a geometrical layout, dull colors and minimalist furniture. Based on what Mikasa had observed so far, there was not even a single aesthetic decoration—not even a potted plant—in sight. Every nook and cranny screamed a sense of urgency and purposefulness. It was in no way a place to have fun, feel at home or even relax. It could easily pass for an extremely well-kept prison.

When she had followed Rivaille's lead into the building's entrance earlier, the busy-looking people at the lobby seemed to all momentarily pause at the sight of her partner—either in fear or admiration, she couldn't tell. _Or maybe it's because of that suit, _she thought, giving the older man a side-long glance and taking in his outfit for the day: a white shirt beneath a black blazer and a matching pair of black slacks, topped off with black polished shoes and a white cravat around his neck.

That morning, when Mikasa met up with him at her apartment building's basement parking in her casual blouse, pants, red scarf and low heels, she had wondered if Rivaille had somehow forgotten to tell her that they were going to some formal event. However, seeing that the employees in the Special Ops base wore ordinary clothes made her confirm that it was her partner's fashion sense that were actually quite misplaced. It wasn't to say that he looked completely ridiculous in it, though—Mikasa could give him much credit, however reluctantly.

She had heard from Armin a long time ago that the Special Ops base was one of the oldest buildings in the entirety of the kingdom. It was the remains of a magnificent castle built some odd centuries ago, and had served as an artifacts museum before The Fall of Wall Maria. When Titan invasion broke out ten years ago, the King had donated the old castle to The Legion in response to its need for a newer and bigger facility to accommodate the Special Operations Division. The authorities, for the sake of historical and cultural preservation, decided to maintain the medieval façade of the castle (or what remained of it) as they renovated it to become the Special Ops Division HQ.

Today was about the second time Mikasa had ever been inside this building. The first time took place five years ago, when her squad was involved in a mission to escort the Special Ops Squad to an outpost in Wall Maria, which by then was already subjugated to Titan rule. It had been her first out-of-the-wall expedition, as well as the first time she had ever encountered and killed a Titan. In her original squad of ten fresh recruits, only Mikasa and three others had made it back alive.

She was snapped out of her reverie when Rivaille suddenly came to a halt. "This is our floor," he said, before resuming his purposeful pace. He motioned lazily at the first doorway they passed by, which gave Mikasa a glimpse of the rows of cubicles inside. "That's the filing department, where all the boring paperwork goes." Then he nodded towards the next doorway, where loud, shouting voices drifted from somewhere within. "That's the Intelligence Department. They're the ones who actually give us jobs, so always treat them nicely."

"Isn't The Legion's Intelligence Sector base found in the Main Branch?" Mikasa said.

"Yeah, but we have our own, because we're so special. Ours focuses only on Titan intel."

They finally reached the end of the hallway, where a pair of dark, wooden doors stood proudly, both bearing a brass insignia of The Legion. "And this is our office," Rivaille concluded, pushing the doors open with a flourish.

Mikasa stepped over the threshold and looked around her. Out of all the rooms in the building, this was probably the least renovated, judging by the round-arched windows lining the whole of the wall opposite the double doors and the large, ancient-looking chandelier hanging from the high ceiling. Ten large, mahogany working desks were lined up in two rows in the middle of the room, and unlike with the previous offices, they were not divided by cubicles. In the far-east end of the room was another door that led to an extension, where the office of the Squad Leader was located, no doubt.

The odd thing that came to Mikasa's attention, however, was the fact that in contrast with the rest of the building, this place was practically empty. Even the working desks were all cleared out and looked untouched.

"Choose whatever desk you want." Rivaille's low voice reverberated in the quiet room.

Mikasa furrowed her eyebrows. "Where are the others?"

It had been a short while before Rivaille finally turned around to face her, his form silhouetted against the beam of sunlight pouring in from a nearby window.

"They're dead."

* * *

Commander Irvin Smith got in touch with them during the late afternoon. They were to meet him at a nondescript restaurant in the Inner District of Wall Rose at 7 PM sharp. By six in the evening, Rivaille and Mikasa had left the Special Ops base and drove to the location in Rivaille's car. The whole one-hour ride had been quiet, as neither occupants of the black sedan were keen on making light conversation.

Mikasa by then was still mulling over the shocking fact that the whole Special Ops Squad, sans Rivaille, had been wiped out. As to when and how that happened, she would probably never know. Special operations were highly classified: all she knew was that all their missions never had a survival rate of more than thirty percent. News of the squad obtaining several casualties in spite of its highly-skilled soldiers was not new, but Mikasa had never heard of the entire squad getting obliterated in one go.

She knew they were not in the advantage of this warfare, but learning that an entire squad of the kingdom's most powerful soldiers could not escape the wrath of Titan forces could only mean that they were losing this very, _very _badly.

The meeting place was a dainty place called _The Baron. _It was a fancy restaurant filled with people belonging to the upper crust of the society. Mikasa, as usual, was Rivaille's shadow as he wound his way through circular tables brimming with lively chatter. At one corner of the restaurant was a podium where a small band played mellow music. The air was filled with a cacophony of aromatic smells, enough to make Mikasa's stomach grumble. She had never been in any place as fancy as this one, and she had never once dreamed being in one.

They reached a secluded part of the restaurant that was lined with cozy booths. They walked further and finally stopped at the corner-most booth, where a blond-haired man in a brown suit sat by himself, enjoying a solitary meal.

Without so much as a word of greeting, Rivaille slipped into the booth and sat across from the man, who on the other hand made no indication that he'd noticed the intrusion. Mikasa stayed rooted on her spot, unsure of what to do.

After what seemed to be a whole minute, the man in the brown suit finally looked up from his plate and bore his clear blue eyes on the young woman.

Mikasa immediately straightened up and rested her right fist on her left chest, bringing her other fist at the small of her back. "Commander, sir."

Irvin Smith nodded in response. "Take a seat, Ms. Ackerman."

She took the seat next to Rivaille. The moment she had settled, a waiter who seemingly came out of nowhere gave her and Rivaille a glass of service water and handed them the menu, before disappearing as fast as he'd come.

"Welcome back to The Legion," the Commander addressed her once again as he took a sip from his glass of vine. "I take it that Rivaille had accommodated you warmly?"

Mikasa paused, before she slowly said, "Rivaille may have his own definition of 'warmly,' sir."

"Ah yes," Irvin said conversationally, his lips curling upward in a small smile that didn't reach his cold, calculating eyes. "You can say that Rivaille leaves quite the impression to most people, especially to new recruits."

Rivaille, who pointedly ignored the conversation at hand, raised a hand and snapped his fingers, and immediately the same waiter from earlier reappeared, a notepad and pen in hand.

"May I take your order, sir, ma'am?"

"I'll take the rib-eye steak, medium-rare."

"How about your drink, sir?"

"Tonic water."

"And you, ma'am?"

Mikasa stared at her menu, still undecided. She was only vaguely familiar of most of the dishes written on it, and they were dishes she had never once tried before. The disparity between the rich and the poor in the kingdom was so severe that the thought of a place where one could eat beef seemed magical to the majority of the population, which included her.

Before she could say anything, though, Rivaille spoke once again.

"She'll have the roasted chicken," he said with absolute certainty.

The waiter jotted down 'her' order and asked, "What about to drink?"

"Just water, thank you," Mikasa piped up.

"Will that be all?"

"Yes."

"Serving time is fifteen minutes, sir, madam."

"I hope you like chicken," Rivaille told Mikasa casually the moment the waiter left. "It's the first thing I saw on the menu."

"Whatever is fine."

"Why did you have to choose a stupid posh place like this one anyway?" her partner directed at Irvin this time. "You know I hate to be around these phony people."

"This is one of the most secured districts in Wall Rose," Irvin said simply. "The risk of us being overhead is minimal. Now." At this, he put down his fork and knife and dabbed a napkin on his mouth, addressing Mikasa once again. "Ms. Ackerman, you have been away for a whole year, am I correct?"

"Yes, sir."

"Then you have must have noticed by now that there have been major developments since your leave, the biggest of them being the tragic fate of the previous Special Operations Squad."

Mikasa's hands curled into fists from underneath the table. "I have been made aware of that. That is why I was recruited, isn't it?"

"Precisely," the Commander said. "Even in your absence, your performance record remains unbeaten. Without question, you are more qualified to be in this position than any other soldier in The Legion."

"I beg to disagree, sir," she said in a low voice, making Irvin raise his eyebrows in question.

"What makes you say so?"

"I know that you have not forgotten my past mistakes, Commander. I have done things enough to earn me a dismissal from service," she said, meeting Irvin's intense gaze with her own. "Technically, I should have been taken by the Military Police and subjected to an Imperial Court trial. Instead, The Legion, under your explicit command, pulled some strings to get me out of trouble. For some reason, I had only been sanctioned to one year in a correctional facility." She paused, letting her words sink in.

After a moment of silence, Irvin finally said, "What is your point, Ms. Ackerman?"

"I want to know _why _you chose to save me," Mikasa said. "I want to know why I'm here."

"There is only one answer to that," the Commander said matter-of-factly. "And it the most obvious of all answers. It's because you are far more useful to us here than in jail, Ms. Ackerman. During these difficult times, we are driven to maximize the use of what little resources we have. You are a soldier with the strength of a hundred men. I am certain that you are worth more than just a few violations."

"A few violations?" Mikasa echoed, her voice betraying her disbelief. She let a few seconds drag by, choosing her next words with utmost care. "I disobeyed the founding rule of the martial law, which was not to go beyond the Wall without authorization. And, much worse, I had abandoned my post and broken my oath to The Legion in favor of pursuing my personal desires."

"And by your personal desires," Irvin said, "you mean avenging Eren Jaeger's death."

Mikasa bowed her head. "Yes, sir."

Irvin contemplated about her response and took another sip from his glass. "Do you want to be here, Ms. Ackerman?"

She didn't know how to respond to that question. Did she want to be here? The immediate answer was, of course, _no_. Mikasa had never wanted the life of a soldier. All she ever wanted was a peaceful life with Eren, but it seemed that Fate had other plans for the two of them. Since the death of his parents, Eren had decided that the only path for him was that of a soldier, so what choice did she have, really? It was either to follow him or part ways with him—and the latter was even unthinkable. After all, Eren was the sole reason that Mikasa was still alive until now. If not for him, she would have been gone long ago, together with her real parents…

"If you are having a difficult time answering that question, just think about this: what could be the best way to bring justice to Eren's death?"

Mikasa's eyes widened and slowly rose to meet Irvin's once again. "Justice?"

"Yes," he said. "Justice. I have chosen you for this because of all people, you may have the strongest motivation to see it through the end. This is what Eren has been fighting for all this time, Ms. Ackerman. He may not be physically with us anymore, but his legacy continues. Nothing is a better form of revenge than the turning of his dreams to reality, don't you think?"

At that exact moment, the waiter returned once again, this time with Rivaille's and Mikasa's orders. He first laid down the dishes, then Rivaille's tall glass of tonic water. Irvin turned to him and gave him a nod of acknowledgement, which he had returned with another respectful bow before stepping out of sight.

"All this serious talk has gotten me really hungry," Rivaille said casually, lifting his fork and knife and beginning to attack his steak. "Hurry up and finish so we can talk about the real reason we're all here."

"Do you want to be here, Mikasa?" Irvin repeated after a moment of silence, this time using her given name. "Can you serve The Legion once again to continue where Eren had left off?"

"_We have to fight," _Eren used to say all the time. "_Or else, all those lives lost would have been meaningless! It's the living's responsibility to keep on living. And we cannot live in terror of those Titans. We have to fight and win, or die trying."_

"Yes," Mikasa finally said. "My answer is yes, sir."

"That is all I have to hear," the Commander said, going back to his food. "Now eat, before you lose your appetite with what I am about to say."

"What a nice way to set the mood," Rivaille commented dryly. "You must be so great at parties, Irvin."

"I must say, I am a crowd favorite."

Mikasa blinked at the two men, the humor lost in her, before she looked down on her roasted chicken and began to eat silently. It was the most delicious thing she'd tasted in years.

About halfway into her meal, the waiter came back to refill their drinks. Then, upon Irvin's beckon, he went to the Commander's side and leaned closer to listen to his explicit orders. Finally, with a brief nod, he bowed once again and left.

"Now," the blond-haired man said. "We shall begin this meeting."

Mikasa set down her fork and knife and sat a little straighter, while Rivaille made no visible reaction.

"I called the two of you out here tonight for a special mission debriefing. Needless to say, what I am about to impart is highly confidential and should never reach the ears of anyone aside from the three of us. Am I making myself perfectly clear?" When Mikasa nodded and Rivaille remained quiet, he went on. "I am going straight to the point. In light of the recent events, I have concluded, beyond reasonable doubt, that we have Titan spies among us in The Legion."

"Spies?" Mikasa echoed, quite disbelievingly. "How is that possible?"

"If their rats managed to get into the Military Police, having another one among our ranks is not so surprising anymore," Rivaille said monotonously.

The mention of the Military Police made Mikasa visibly shift in her seat, a small action that did not go unnoticed by either of her two companions.

Suddenly interested, Rivaille rested an elbow on the table and rested his chin on his fist, his dark eyes boring on the young woman beside him. "And that MP spy has been dealt with _very_ thoroughly, don't you think so, Ackerman?" he said casually, the side of his mouth lifting to form a knowing smirk.

"Rivaille," Irvin said in a warning tone.

Rivaille averted his gaze from Mikasa to give his superior a bored look. "Just asking my new partner for her opinion. She didn't have much chance to express it before, did she?"

"With all due respect, Commander," Mikasa said, her voice never betraying a hint of emotion, "Annie Leonhardt had it coming, and up to this day, I do not regret any of my actions towards her."

Approximately one year ago, Mikasa, against her better judgment, had dropped everything—her job, her future, her life—for a single objective: to kill Annie Leonhardt. To fulfill this, she had broken several laws and nearly caused a civil war between the Military Police and The Legion, thus earning her a one-year suspension from service. But her efforts had not all been in vain: ultimately, Annie had been exposed as a spy working for the Titans, bringing forth the wild discovery that the military has already been infiltrated by terrorists. Until now, though, the government could not possibly obtain any valuable information from Annie, as she had yet to wake up from the comatose state Mikasa had made _sure _to put her in.

Either way, Mikasa would never have been at peace until the day she stained her hands with Annie's blood...

After all, she was the woman who had led Eren Jaeger to his death.

"The bitch did deserve getting beaten up to a state of coma," Rivaille added humorlessly.

"And tell me, how can she be of any real worth to us now?" Irvin said sternly. "But we digress. The matter at hand is that it has been recently discovered that the Titans have managed to infiltrate even _our_ organization. The upside is that it seems they are still not aware that they have already been found out."

"So what made you think that they still don't know we've detected their stink?" Rivaille demanded.

"I have great confidence that they are using the internal conflicts within the kingdom to divert our attention from them." At this, Irvin turned to Mikasa. "Since last month, there has been an ongoing investigation about war crimes performed by certain MP and Garrison officials. From Leonhardt's discovery to this, things are only bound to get worse for the military. The high untimeliness of this incident makes me think that this is another diversionary tactic devised by Titans in preparation for another attack. '_Divide and conquer_,' as what an ancestor had once said." He then took a generous sip from his vine glass. "With everything that's going on, these spies would think that the last thing I have time for is tracking them down."

"Commander, may I ask a question?" Mikasa said.

"You may."

"What is your basis for believing that we have spies among us?" she said imploringly. "As per our protocol, we perform thorough background checks on people who wish to join our force, not to mention that we are far too few in number to overlook if some of us are behaving strangely."

"You are not aware of this, Mikasa," Irvin said grimly, "but for the past year you have been gone, The Legion has suffered a far greater loss than what any of us could have anticipated. In this regard, I have started to suspect that this was not simply a case of shortsightedness on our part." He rested his hands on the table and stapled his fingers together. "Two weeks ago, I have attempted to confirm my suspicions under the guise of a Titan base assault in Wall Maria. And it turned out that I was right." The Commander paused after this, looking at Mikasa squarely in the face. "The expedition had turned out to be a failure, costing the lives of the members of the Special Operations Squad. Nevertheless, there is no doubt about it: we had been double-crossed, and none other by someone of our own kind."

Mikasa could feel her own rapid heartbeat against her chest. What was the world coming to? Why did they have so much ill fate?

"Well do these Titan rats have names?" Rivaille said. "Or are we gonna blindly go around and randomly torture members of The Legion into confessing?" Mikasa observed him from the corner of her eye, noting that his face remained as cool and expressionless as ever in spite of knowing that his whole squad had been obliterated all for the sake of exposing a couple of Titan spies who might not have existed in the first place.

"I have two primary suspects," Irvin revealed. "And I plan to confirm my allegations with your help."

There he was again with his "allegations." Just how much was this man willing to sacrifice even for a small victory? Whatever this mission was, it would surely be as suicidal as the one before it. Mikasa had lifted her glass of water and was about to drink from it when the Commander spoke.

"Reiner Braun and Bertholdt Fubar, both from the Survey Corps."

She had dropped her glass in shock, letting it hit the floor with a resounding crash.

Why, oh why, did she have such ill fate?

* * *

"I can go home by myself."

Rivaille paused in his tracks and turned around to face Mikasa. "You sure about that?"

"Yes." She unconsciously tugged at her funny red scarf as she said it, and he absently noted that it was the same scarf she wore the day before. She then saluted as Irvin exited through the door of the restaurant and came up to them. "Sir, I'll be going now."

Irvin nodded at her. "Take care, Ms. Ackerman."

Both Rivaille and the Commander watched the young woman as she walked away, neither of them saying a word until she turned around a corner and disappeared from their sight. Then, after a moment, Rivaille spoke.

"I still don't get why she has to be my partner."

"I already stated my reasons earlier," Irvin said simply. "I am not about to repeat myself until you are convinced."

"Those two bastards we're about to sack," the dark-haired man continued, his eyes still set on the street corner Mikasa had disappeared into, "Ackerman knows them personally, doesn't she?"

"Yes, they were in the same squad five years ago. I have also been made aware of the fact that they belonged in the same class during their training days."

"The same was the case with Leonhardt, wasn't it? I read the reports. It was mentioned there that Leonhardt and Ackerman graduated at the same time."

"Indeed."

"Huh." Rivaille pulled out a packet of cigarettes from his pocket and took out a stick. "So the people she thought to be her friends turn out to be Titan rats, and now she's ordered to personally go after them. How fucked up is that?"

Irvin watched the other man as he lit his cigarette, a somewhat bemused expression on his face. "Rivaille," he said slowly, "are you worried about her?"

"I just don't get it," Rivaille said, exhaling a puff of smoke. "I trust you, but I have to admit that this doesn't make a lot of sense. Do you want to destroy her faith in humanity that bad?"

The Commander chose not to reply, which made him confirm his suspicions all along.

"So you do want that," he said in a strange, hushed tone. "You plan to make a monster out of her."

"To fight monsters, we had to create some of our own," Irvin said, looking at Rivaille pointedly. "Though apparently, you, Hanji and I are not enough. We need more monsters like us, and she fits the bill perfectly."

"What an extremely unlucky woman," Rivaille commented. He then looked up at the dark, starless sky above them, smiling wryly at a private thought. "You know what I think can make her undone?" he said absentmindedly.

"What?"

Rivaille watched lazily as smoke swirled upward from the lit end of his cigarette. "Discovering that it was I, her partner, who killed Eren Jaeger."

* * *

There! I seriously had a hard time writing this chapter! **Please review**, I'd love to know what you think!

P.S. Irvin's line, "_To fight monsters, we had to create some of our own_" was based on a line from a popular 2013 movie. Props to anyone who can guess the reference!


	4. On that Day

Hello, everyone, so sorry for the slow update! Thanks for the favorites, follows and reviews! :) More A/N's at the bottom.

* * *

**Chapter 3: On that Day**

* * *

Armin Arlert looked up from the thick book he had been reading for the past two hours with a heavy scowl on his face. "Say what?"

"I said, I've been assigned to a mission with the Special Ops Squad," Eren Jaeger repeated in a low voice, leaning forward across the table to move his face closer to Armin's. "Top secret stuff, we leave tomorrow at dawn, and I'm only telling you this because you're my best friend, and right now, you're the only person I can trust not to screw up and tell anyone else."

"Have you told Mikasa?" Armin said automatically.

"Are you nuts? Of course not!"

"Why not? Don't tell me you're having doubts on where her loyalties lie? I can tell you that I have more chances of joining the Titans than her ever betraying you."

"You know that's not the issue," Eren hissed quietly, keeping in mind that they were currently in a secluded part of the Legion's library. "I just don't want her to try doing anything stupid to stop her brother from risking his neck out there as an actual productive member of the Legion, is all. This is my chance to fulfill an important role in this war. I've been waiting for this!"

"You do know you're putting me in a tight spot, don't you?" Armin said, still frowning, before glancing back to his book. "I don't want to lie or hide secrets from Mikasa, especially if it concerns you. I still value my life, thanks."

Eren grunted from under his breath. "Grow some balls for me, will you? Listen, this special mission will take me away for just a few days. I'll tell make up a cover story and you'll back me up, okay? You're the best when it comes to lying through your teeth."

Armin inwardly rolled his eyes, trying (and failing) to ignore the pair of green eyes boring a hole in his skull from across the table. "Thanks for the compliment, but my answer is still _no. _You have to tell Mikasa the truth. It's not like she can do anything about it anyway, since it's an order from the Commander, right?"

When Eren didn't respond to that, he looked up again from his book, his brows furrowed. "_Right, _Eren?"

His best friend looked a little sheepish. "Well, actually…"

"Please tell me you didn't _volunteer _for this," Armin said, suddenly feeling tired.

"Well what did you want me to do anyway?" Eren said indignantly, his voice beginning to rise. "Chicken out like those MP cowards? I didn't become a soldier to keep my ass safe, you know!"

Armin shut his book loudly, the noise echoing dully in the high walls. "God damn it, Eren. Which part of, 'keep your ass out of line' don't you understand? There's a thin line between courage and stupidity you might have to be aware of."

"Are you saying that I'm stupid?"

"I'm saying that it's not wise to be suicidal."

"Gee, since when had Mikasa rubbed off on you? Stop treating me like a child."

"I will if you stop acting like one."

"You're right, I'm stupid," Eren finally said, raising his hands in surrender. His chair screeched loudly against the floor as he got onto his feet. "I'm stupid for believing that I've got your back on this. My mistake."

"Eren," Armin started, getting off his own chair as the other young man began stalking off, "I'm not yet done talking. Eren!"

Eren stopped in his tracks, but didn't turn around to face him.

"These are very, _very _difficult times," Armin started. "The kingdom is suffering from chaos inside and outside the Walls. There is too much death going on. If you have to do something as rash as this, you better make sure you don't get yourself needlessly killed. Let me know that this is a rational decision, not something you made out of overwhelming emotions. I need to know that you're going back from this _alive and in one piece._"

"What?" There was laughter in Eren's tone. He turned around and met Armin's blue eyes with a piercing glare. "There is no way anyone would know if I'd come back alive and in one piece. Get your head out of the clouds, Armin! You're supposed to be the smart guy around here. I'm ready to die if it's gonna make us win this fight."

It was Armin's turn to raise his voice. "You still don't get it, do you? I believe in you, that's why I followed you when you said you were going to join the Military. Same goes for Mikasa, too. The others—Jean, Connie, Sasha, Reiner, Bertholdt, Christa, Ymir—they also believe in you, that's why they followed you when you said you were going to join The Legion. Some of us—Marco, Thomas, Franz—even had to die for the same reasons you have now. Can't you see? From the moment you made that little speech in our class on Graduation Day, inspiring everyone to walk the same path you did, your life hasn't only been yours to keep. All of our friends, scared out of their wits, went against their better judgment just to be here with you. Stop being selfish. _You _were the one who brought us all here, so it's your responsibility to keep us going till the end! I can't let you die on us, do you hear me? I can't."

He took a deep breath after that, realizing that his heart was beating rapidly and that his knuckles had gone white from his sides. Eren stared at him unblinkingly, his mouth slightly open at a loss for words.

After what seemed to be a whole minute of heavy silence, the brown-haired lad finally spoke.

"…I didn't know you guys thought of me like that," he said, somewhat lamely.

"Now you do," Armin huffed, feeling suddenly embarrassed for his emotional outburst.

"Look," Eren said, averting his gaze to the floor, "I'm sorry if you feel that way, but like I told you, I have to do this. No, scratch that. I'm the _only one _who can do this."

Armin raised his eyebrows in question. "What makes you say so?"

Eren exhaled loudly and briefly closed his eyes, as if suffering from a severe headache.

"This mission involves my father," he finally said.

It took a moment for Armin to respond. "What?" he spluttered disbelievingly. "Dr. Jaeger? Eren, he's—"

"—dead, I know," his best friend said in a hushed tone. "The issue is not whether he's really dead or not."

"What are you talking about? I'm confused."

"Hey, it's confusing for me, too, okay?" Eren said urgently. "But for the past month, I've been having these…these…dreams about my dad. I know this sounds crazy but I don't believe they're _just _dreams." He paused, running a tired hand through his messy brown hair. "I think they're real memories."

Seven years ago, just before they had signed up for military school, there was a time when Eren had mysteriously gone missing. The orphanage staff, together with some Military Police officers, had gone looking for him everywhere, but to no avail. Three days of fruitless search passed before Eren suddenly showed up in the orphanage, famished and disoriented, though thankfully unharmed. It had taken him quite a while to recover from the incident, and, when asked, would claim that he had no recollection of what happened to him in the three days he had been gone. The doctors concluded that Eren's condition was an unusual case of selective amnesia, given that he had no indication of suffering from any form of head trauma. They were told that it could take weeks, months or even years for his memories to come back, if they were to return at all. Eren had seemed completely fine without his lost memories, though, and so after a while, Armin and Mikasa had stopped badgering him about it.

Today was the first time in seven years that he brought it up once again.

Armin was having a hard time digesting what he'd just heard. He sat back on his chair, mainly to support himself. "Your memories," he said slowly. "They're…finally coming back? Why didn't you tell me?"

"At first, I wasn't sure if they were real memories," Eren said hesitantly. "I didn't want to worry you or Mikasa, so I shut up about it. But the dreams got more and more vivid as time passed by…then one day, while I was on patrol duty, memories of my dad talking to me suddenly flashed before my eyes. My head suddenly hurt, as if someone was pounding it with a hammer. Reiner, who was also on duty that time, had to help me get to the infirmary. I made him swear not to tell anyone about it."

"So you're trying to tell me," Armin said after a moment's pause, "that seven years ago, when you went missing…you were actually with Dr. Jaeger? That he's still alive somewhere?"

"I don't know if he's still alive right now," Eren admitted. "But if he managed to meet me after the Fall, it means the Titan attack didn't kill him, contrary to what the Garrison claimed."

"What made you sure of that?"

"Here." At this, Eren inserted a hand in his shirt and pulled out a string hanging around his neck, from which a small brass pendant dangled. "Do you remember when I started to wear this on me?"

Armin frowned, staring at the necklace intently. "Must be sometime before we got into training school. I remember you having to do a hundred push ups for refusing to follow Commander Keith when he ordered you to take it off."

"True," Eren said. "I can't remember how exactly I got this, either. All I know is that it's something really important to me. In one of the flashbacks I've been experiencing, I saw my father giving it to me. He told me—" He suddenly paused, then shook his head, as if warding off a negative thought. "I'm sorry, but I could only tell you this much. I'm under a gag order, and who knows how many violations I've committed just by talking to you about this."

"Wait, what?" Armin demanded. "A gag order? From the Commander?"

Eren merely nodded, still not meeting Armin's imploring gaze.

"What do your memories have anything to do with your mission?" the blond boy pressed.

"I can't tell you, I'm sorry," his best friend said despondently.

Armin's mental gears were set in full motion. Suddenly, he had a very ominous feeling about this. "Alright," he said, nevertheless. "Does anyone else who's not involved in your mission know about the flashbacks you've been having?"

Eren looked at him as if he had grown two heads. "Hell no," he said. "We've had enough nutcases in this organization without me adding up to the list, thank you very much."

"Good," Armin said, a little relieved.

Eren blinked at him. "What's so good about it?"

"Just making sure that whatever connection you have with this secret mission remains a secret," Armin said. "I have no idea what's going on, Eren, and that's a first for me. If the Commander deems it necessary to withhold information regarding this operation, I can only think of one, and only one, reason: he thinks there's a spy among us who can jeopardize the mission."

Eren's green eyes were wide as saucers. "Impossible," he said simply. "We're all family here. That can't be right."

"Let's hope I'm just a nutcase myself for thinking that way," Armin said dimly. "Don't let your guard down while you're out there."

Eren watched as his best friend got back on his feet, his book in hand. "Thank you, Armin," he said, meaning it more than he could let on.

"You really have to tell Mikasa, though," Armin said seriously. "She deserves to know that you'll be out on a dangerous mission, at least."

"Whatever," Eren said, glaring at nothing in particular. "Anyway, she'd be so busy with Jean she wouldn't even notice the whole time I'd be gone."

Armin almost laughed. "So this is what all of this is about," he said, realization dawning on him.

"What are you talking about?" his best friend said, suddenly defensive.

"Just a man to man advice," Armin said, an odd smile creeping up his face, "Mikasa would appreciate it more if you told her straight up about your problem with her dating Jean than you giving her the cold shoulder all the time."

"I didn't say I have a problem with her and Jean!"

"You didn't deny it, either."

"When Annie and I train together she has all the right to get upset about it, but apparently when she makes out with a horse-faced idiot I'm not supposed to say anything!" Eren said indignantly. "Who does she think she is?"

Armin resisted the urge to roll his eyes for the nth time. "Just get together already," he said under his breath.

"Did you say something?" Eren snapped.

"Nothing," he said quickly. "But going back to the topic at hand…seriously, Eren, take care, will you? And be sure to make up with Mikasa before you leave. You know that during these times we don't have the luxury to set aside unfinished business."

"Yeah, tell that to yourself. How's that thing with Annie going?"

Armin's cheeks suddenly turned pink. "Cut it out," he blurted out. "Nothing's going on between us. She's with Bertholdt, isn't she?"

"Between you and Bert, I'd say you're the better choice. But Annie's not me, so…" Eren chuckled as he looked at his wrist watch. "Listen, I gotta go now. Should've met with the Special Ops Squad Leader three minutes ago. I'll see you in a few days, yeah?"

"Knock yourself out," Armin said sarcastically.

Eren turned around with and walked away. As he was about to turn around the corner of a bookshelf, Armin called out to his back.

"Tell Mikasa, alright?"

His best friend only responded with a lazy wave of his hand, before he turned and disappeared from his sight.

That was the last time Armin ever saw him again.

* * *

On that day, as Armin absently drank his coffee at the kitchen while poring over the morning newspaper, he decided that he would pay Mikasa Ackerman a visit at the correctional facility to finally confess about the last conversation he and Eren had in the library one year ago, the day before he died. True to his word, he had never told another living soul about Eren's secret, even if it meant lying to Mikasa's face in several occasions. Up to this day, even Commander Smith believed that no one outside his selected group of people knew about Eren's involvement with his secret operation—his death was merely announced to the public as a result of a Titan ambush in a Wall Maria outpost he had been designated to, something that Armin immediately figured was a far cry from the truth. Eren had been given the proper military funeral, complete with a posthumous award of excellence for his invaluable service to His Majesty, and that was there to it. Mikasa had to go home with nothing but unfathomable grief and a medal that was supposed to compensate for the life of her remaining family.

Armin had to watch passively as Mikasa painstakingly tried to pull her life back together in the following days. "Multiple gunshots from a Titan ambush? That can't be right, can it, Armin?" Mikasa had said helplessly. "The night before he left…he was different. He was hiding something from me, but I don't know what. There's something more to this than what they are letting on. Did Eren mention anything to you before he left?"

"No," Armin had lied. He had almost given in under Mikasa's imploring, desperate gaze, but he had steeled himself. "He didn't mention anything to me." Eren had been right about him being a good liar.

At that time, Armin couldn't risk letting anyone from The Legion know that he had an idea on the truth behind Eren's death. With Mikasa's unstable state of mind, he was certain that once she learned of Eren's involvement with special operations, she would do something that could easily make Irvin Smith put two and two together. If worse came to worst, and they were found out, the Commander would surely have them hushed up, with methods Armin couldn't even begin to think of. He then decided that keeping everything to himself for the meantime was for Mikasa's own good…

And how very wrong he was.

Armin believed that it was his fault that Mikasa had been driven to commit her crimes. If only he had said something—_anything—_back then, she wouldn't have to learn the truth in a much harder way. If only Armin had better foresight, he would have predicted Mikasa's course of action—and would have prevented her from doing the unthinkable.

If only he had been strong enough, Annie wouldn't have ended up the way she did.

Annie Leonhardt did not kill Eren Jaeger, that was for certain. For the past year, Armin had been using his convenient position in the Intelligence Sector to dig further into that particular Special Ops mission Eren had been involved in. Apparently, someone had been a couple of steps ahead of him, for all records of that operation had seemingly vanished without a trace. As to what happened to Mikasa thereafter, Armin was sure that it was because she had been led on with false information. Somebody, a person who had accurately figured out Mikasa's motives, had been aware of her activities and had set a trap—and a pretty clever one at that, too.

By setting that false trail, that person had managed to hit two birds with one stone: first, they had managed to expose Annie, the Titan spy in the Military Police, without having to stain their own hands; second was that they had made Mikasa believe that she had caught the real culprit behind Eren's death, thus preventing her from further discovering the truth. It was a very ingenious trap, Armin could give the bastard that. He could only think of one person who could benefit from such a well-thought of plan…

Anyway, his mind was set. Today, he was going to tell Mikasa _everything. _In fact, he should've done this a long time ago. Screw whoever powerful authority was at play: it was time to set things right once and for all.

He was harshly snapped out of his reverie when his flatmate, Jean Kirschtein, suddenly entered the kitchen, looking fresh out of bed. "Oh, Armin," he said while rubbing the sleepiness off his eyes, "you're up early today. Going somewhere?"

"Oh, the usual," Armin replied smoothly, setting down the newspaper and sipping from his mug.

"The library again, huh?" Jean said as he opened the fridge and pulled out a carton of milk. "Can I come with?"

Armin had to stop himself from choking from his coffee. "What for? You hate the library." Only he knew of the truth about Mikasa. All of their friends—including Jean—were made to believe that her absence was due to a year-long intensive training in the mountains for a newly formed elite squad. Her involvement in Annie's capture had been hushed up as well—the Military Police had taken all the credit for her exposure.

It had been a whole year of lies and pretenses for Armin, and he thought he couldn't bear it any much longer.

He was going to put an end to it today.

Jean shrugged. "Can't think of anything to do on my day-off." Then he suddenly straightened up. "Hey, Mikasa's birthday is coming up! I should get something for her." He nodded to himself. "That's right, that's what I'm gonna do today. Do you know when she's coming back?"

"It should be pretty soon," Armin said with a weak smile, feeling sorry for his oblivious friend.

"What should I get her though?"

_The happiness that she deserves, _Armin thought bitterly, choosing not to respond out loud. With everything that's happened so far, he wondered if he would ever see the day that Mikasa would genuinely smile again.

Probably not.

* * *

"I'm sorry, sir, but Ms. Ackerman is no longer staying here."

"What do you mean?" Armin said sharply.

"She has been discharged three days ago," the receptionist responded apologetically. "Has she not been in touch yet?"

"No," he said flatly. "Is Dr. Zoe in?"

"She is. Would you like to talk to her?"

"Yes, please."

Armin had to wait for five minutes before Hanji Zoe emerged from a doorway leading further inside the building. "Armin!" she said excitedly once she spotted the blond young man at the lobby. "How've you been?"

"Never been better," Armin responded, coming up to the doctor and shaking her hand in greeting. "I wasn't aware that Mikasa's been discharged."

"Oh yes, that. It was quite a pleasant surprise! Imagine how happy she was when she got the news."

Armin immediately cut to the chase. "Where is she now?"

Hanji gave off a warm smile, her eyes crinkling slightly behind her glasses. "I'm not privy to the details of her whereabouts, but I expect that she'd get in touch with you soon enough."

Armin knew that that was an outright lie, but decided to play along with it. "I really hope so. Everyone's so excited to meet her again."

"Oh, it's been a long while indeed."

Somehow, Armin had the odd feeling that someone had outsmarted him. _Again_. Suddenly, she had the urge to yell at Hanji's smiling face and shake her until she spilled the beans. Were they playing him for a fool?

"Well," he said instead, his face a perfect clean slate. "I think I should get going now."

"It's a beautiful day. You should go out and do something for yourself," the doctor agreed. "I'll see you around, yeah?"

Armin nodded. "See you around, Doctor." He had turned around and was walking for the main doors when Hanji spoke again.

"Oh, and Armin?"

Armin paused in his tracks and looked at her over his shoulder.

"Keep safe." Hanji's smile widened at that.

He smiled back. "You too," he replied, before he resumed walking.

Dr. Hanji didn't tell him to take care. She told him to keep safe, as if Armin was already in danger.

And he knew that, indeed, he was.

* * *

Whew! Poor Armin! I hope some of your questions got answered in this chapter. :) Anyways, **please review**, your feedback helps me write faster. :3

**Also, I know by now that some of you might have already heard about the Category 5+ Super Typhoon Haiyan hitting the Philippines a few days ago. **The devastation caused by ST Haiyan is telecast all over the globe, and words can't even begin to describe the suffering of my fellow Filipinos. Death toll has risen to about 2,000 as I type this, and is expected to even rise up to 10,000. Remaining survivors are rapidly dying of thirst, starvation and famine because typhoon-afflicted areas are still barely accessible by land. People are fighting tooth-and-nail to get their hands on the limited supply of relief goods that the government and other organizations have managed to get there in time. Both power and telecommunication are down. There is nowhere to put the dead, so they are piled up in the streets like logs. Law and order are barely existent. To say that it is Hell on Earth is the biggest understatement of the year.**  
**

I ask my readers to please help my country rise again from this tragedy. Please spread the word about the real situation of my _kababayans. _Donating cash or in kind also goes a long, _long_ way. Sorry for dampening the mood with this long post, but I can't just sit here without doing the best I can to alleviate Filipinos from their misery.

_Bangon, Pilipinas!_

See you in the next update! :D


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